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After an appropriate grieving period, Adriana Papadopoulos Michaelides, still called AP, assessed her life and what she wanted to do.

She went back to school, changing her major to Educational Administration. Second, she hired a chef and personal trainer. She was going to re-invent her body. The one thing she didn't think she could do anything about was her fat, flabby, sagging breasts. Leo loved being smothered by them, but AP thought they were disgusting.

However, she found the best plastic surgeon in the country and soon had the most perfect breasts. The surgeon assured her that in time the scars would be almost imperceptible.

The best make-over artists gave her suggestions on how to make her facial features softer.

She became a monthly regular at Intimate Waxing. ‘If Leo loved it, I'll bet other men will, too,' she told herself.

She wanted to be as normal a student as possible. She lived in the dorm, although with her own room. Leo left her the mansion in Boston, houses in Santorini, St. Bart's, Aspen and Hawai'i. No one knew any of this except her family.

Depending on the season and her whim, she spent vacations and summers at one of her homes; flying there on Leo's, now her, private plane.

Two or three times a year, she took a lover. Some were good, some not so good. Some only lasted as long as those cowboys on those rodeo bulls: eight seconds. Others long enough to satisfy her.

Rarely did she offer her lover a blowjob. Most men, even with all the work she'd done, still considered her unattractive, and were loath to eat her.

Thanks to the chef and personal trainer, she no longer had any body fat. The rolls around her waist were gone. Her thighs were almost as firm as her NFL-playing brothers. When the fucking was good and she wrapped her legs on a man's back, she could almost crush his ribs.

All of these affairs took place in one of her homes, far away from Boston. She refrained from sullying her reputation in her backyard.

After graduating and earning her Master's, she took a low-level administrative job at the college near Boston where the Tau Upsilon Phi sorority was making a sordid name for themselves.

She sold the mansion, and bought a small, unpretentious cottage within walking distance of the college and her office.

It wasn't that she needed the money; she had millions; tens and tens of millions. Her financial advisors thought that if the markets did just average over the next five years, her worth would be over a hundred million.

Twenty years after Leo's death, she was the Dean of Women at the college. The TUPH girls were among her charges. Her office was next to Dr. Lee Haynesworth's.

It didn't take long for her to realize that female students, in particular Monica Santoro, Paula McEachern and Myo Nakamura were frequent visitors to his office. Just as surprising, so was the Tau Upsilon Phi house mother, Mrs. Sylvia Kelly.

When those students showed up, invariably they were dressed provocatively. Showing off as much as possible. Paula's long legs were crossed so high, AP swore she could see her panties. As for that Japanese girl: AP wondered if she was even wearing any.

It seemed unusual to the Dean of Women. On her own, she hired a private detective. It took him a few months to report that the married Dr. Haynesworth was having affairs with all three students and with the house mother. "What do those girls and that woman see in him? I don't think he's all that attractive."

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